


it started with you and started with me

by thearcherballet



Category: One Direction
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Liam, Dry Humping, M/M, Music Producer Liam, Oral Sex, Solo Artist Zayn, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:10:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearcherballet/pseuds/thearcherballet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts like this: you love a boy more than you love your own music, until he becomes the song your heart sings.<br/>Solo artist Zayn Malik is recording his third album when he finds himself working with a new music producer, the amateur talent Liam Payne. Liam is saddled with the task to prove that Zayn can be the greatest musician of the 21st century. Zayn’s musical barriers start melting away as things get heated up in the recording studio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it started with you and started with me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlingjustdont](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingjustdont/gifts), [papurosaurusrexx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papurosaurusrexx/gifts), [vastlyunknown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vastlyunknown/gifts).



> Hi! This is my first serious non-HP fic and first 1D fic too! I want to thank my friends for helping me through this. Sasha for being the best friend i could ask in this wasteland of a fandom, Héla for giving me the idea in the first place, Ana for helping in the betaing process, and Zeina bc she started it. This is actually the longest fic I've ever done, and I'm tired. Yet I'm writing other Ziam things. Hopefully you like this!!! Come talk to me on tumblr @thearcherballet or Twitter @TheArcherBallet :)

It’s not that Zayn hates recording.  

He just usually hates record producers.

The constant directions of _I need more emotion, Zayn_ , or _You can hit that note a lot better, Zayn_ , or whatever bullshit comment they kept adding. It all unnerved him. It sounds great to _him_ , it’s _his_ music.

After consulting with his manager, they told him they’d find him a nicer producer that could be patient enough with him.  With a roll of his eyes and a muttered _Good luck with that_ , he’d continued on with his life.  Zayn had continued writing more mature lyrics, trying them out with a beat-up piano he’d grown fond of at a vintage place Harry once took him to.  Then, at last, he decided which ones were best to try out at the studio.  A second talk with his management later, they told him they’d found a newer, younger record producer that seemed very promising and had been producing music  behind-the-scenes for smaller, but great artists nonetheless.

Great, they’d probably sent in a teenage wanna-be DJ to help him with his sound, he thought. Just great.

Zayn sighed as he entered the recording room, throwing himself on the sofa that was left there for him.  He opened his notebook full with his lyrics, riddled with doodles on the margins, to peruse it as he waited for the new guy to get there. Yet, the coldness and emptiness of the room started to make his eyelids droop, and after catching himself yawning a third time, he closed his eyes to wait for the producer to arrive.

He woke with a jolt, hearing soft music coming from within the recording booth’s piano.  Frowning, he walked over to see a man hunched over a piano with noise-canceling headphones on. With his notebook in front of him.

Zayn stomped into the booth, furious, filled with purpose to snatch the guy’s headphones and probably throttle him for invasion of privacy.  However, he stopped short next to him when he caught a glimpse of his face.  

His posture was completely relaxed, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as if trying to let everything he felt slip away through the movement of his fingers on the keyboard, pink lips pressed together with concentration.  It was like staring at art in the making, and he didn’t want to disrupt that.

When at last he finished the movement, Zayn didn’t realize he’d been standing right next to him the entire time.  The man opened his eyes, revealing something akin to triumph in the way they lit up.  As he scrambled to turn off the recording device on top of the piano, he slipped off his headphones and Zayn realized he himself had to make a noise of some sort to let him know he was there.

Clearing his throat, he took pleasure in the way the man jumped and clutched at his chest. “Jesus Christ, mate, how long were you standing there?”

Zayn smirked, “Long enough to notice you have my lyrics there, yeah,” he nodded at the said thing. “That’s private.”

“Yeah, I might’ve snatched it while you were sleeping, but the lyrics just caught my eye,” the man looked sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck where he was flushed. “They seemed pretty inspiring.”

Zayn studied him.  He seemed genuinely sorry for what he’d done, but as he stared up at Zayn, those rich brown, kind eyes swayed him to let down on his attack. “Maybe I should make a living out of that then,” he tried. He extended his hand and the man sheepishly passed him his notebook. Zayn clutched it tightly.

The man laughed, genuinely laughed, with crinkles in the corner of his eyes and dimples and everything, and whatever Zayn was going to fight about just vanished. “You should, and you should have a good music producer.”

Zayn scoffed. “Know any?”

He shrugged, “I just might,” the man grinned up at Zayn. “I’m Liam, by the way, Liam Payne, hopefully still your new producer?” He reached out his hand and Zayn shook it.

“I think you just might be,” Zayn said and, after Liam cleared his throat, he realized he hadn’t let go of his hand. Laughing awkwardly, he started playing with his rings after slipping his hand away.

“In any case, I think you’ve got some really sick songs here, lots of potential,” Liam shook his head in astonishment.

“Why do you think we’re here, mate?” Zayn smiled smugly at him. Recording these songs was going to be fun.

* * *

Turns out, Zayn’s manager did listen to him.  Liam was everything you could hope for in a music producer-- smart, patient, and extra talented. Zayn would be jealous if it weren’t for the fact that he was the one doing the recording.  That, and the fact that Liam was too good to him, so nice that it was impossible to feel any negative emotions towards him.  He’d just smile and Zayn’s notes would be soaring away without a hitch.

Zayn still had problems when recording, though.  Sometimes other producers would sit in as well, and then the commands would start filtering into the booth and Zayn would want to lash out at them, as per usual.  But Liam’s voice would cut through all the dark noise, bringing gentle and kind words, complimenting him with his soft tone.

They’d also taken to hanging out outside of the studio.  They would occasionally sit down and just talk at Zayn’s flat.  Liam had quite a sense of humor that intrigued Zayn, because it was quiet, unassuming, and yet it was that inoffensiveness would crack him up.

Zayn was the first to admit he wasn’t bad on the eyes either.  His attractiveness seemed on par with his personality, which only made it worse because he felt undeserving of all the attention Liam would constantly give him.

They rarely disagreed, and if they did it would be over silly things.  One time Zayn wasn’t sure the key change Liam had given him for one of his songs was the most appropriate for the rhythm.  Liam had looked at him like Zayn had stepped on a puppy’s tail and said, “Just try it, mate, even if you don’t feel it too much, you’ll see.” Zayn couldn’t say no now, could he.

Zayn was wrong of course.  Liam had worked his magic and upon playback it sounded like it was meant to be.  At Liam’s look, Zayn had rolled his eyes with a small smile in concession.  “Can’t say no to you, can I?”

Liam merely grinned and saved his work. “I’m just an irresistible genius, like Bruce Wayne.”

“Sure, Bruce Payne,” Zayn lightly slapped his cheek and winked as he went back into the recording booth.

“I like the sound of that,” Liam called after him with a cheeky grin.

* * *

Liam kept haunting his thoughts.

Even when Zayn wasn't around Liam, he was always in his mind. As Zayn stalked his Twitter timeline, he'd see a funny tweet and go _Liam would find this funny_ , or go through Vines and send Liam links with laughing emojis. It was definitely getting out of hand.

Louis would roll his eyes when he'd catch Zayn's eye after Liam'd sent him a superhero meme and take the blunt they'd been sharing in his apartment out of Zayn's hands. If it weren't for the fact that Liam saw him as just a mate, he'd be jumping him wherever they were.

And he really wanted to.

His songs suddenly started taking a turn from very deep, philosophical lyrics to songs that would make The Weeknd jealous due to the subtle sexual nature of them.

He didn't want things to be weird between them, but Liam was just a genius with Zayn's songs. And with Zayn.

He'd gotten quick in realizing when Zayn needed a break, reading when he was feeling overwhelmed the moment he started snapping at everyone and making one too many sarcastic comments. There was just this thing between them, a sort of understanding that went beyond their business side and music-making relationship; a chemistry that started the day Zayn walked in on Liam playing the piano.

Which brought Zayn to the problems he was having during recording that day. His voice had cracked about five times already, and he was having trouble connecting with this provocative number. He wasn't getting any despite his superstar status and the subject of his sexual fantasies as of late was sitting behind a soundproof glass.

Groaning as Liam shut off the music for about the sixth time that day, he rubbed his temple.

"What's wrong, Zayn?" Liam's voice came through the speaker in the room, always calm and collected.

"I dunno mate, having trouble making it work right now."

"You wrote the song," Liam threw at him with a smirk. "Having trouble connecting with it, you think?"

"Yeah," Zayn closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Zayn Malik, international superstar, not getting laid enough... Now that's something magazines would love to hear."

It's a good thing they were alone that day because otherwise he'd be getting very irritated. As it were, Zayn laughed, though it quickly turned into a suffered whine. "Maybe I should just sing at my hand, it's been getting a lot of attention recently too."

"Don't be ridiculous," Liam smirked at him. "Take a deep breath, and we'll take it from the top, all right?"

Zayn did as he asked, trying to clear his head of anxious thoughts, and gave him the thumbs up.

The music flooded his mind, creeping into every crevice of his body until he felt like he could become one with the song. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine someone he could sing the song to. Someone who could awaken every nerve ending in his body and just make him feel alive. As he thought of this, only one face came to mind: Liam's. Liam touching him, Liam whispering tender words that soothe and incite him at the same time, Liam beaming his silly-ass smile at him, Liam, Liam, _Liam_.

He stopped the track again and Zayn didn't realize he'd missed his cue in his overwhelming thoughts. He rubbed his cheeks as if to will away the flush that had made way into his face. He took off his headphones, the weight of them already causing him a headache.

Zayn hadn't realized Liam had made his way into the recording booth either, arms crossed and leaning against the door.

"You okay there, Zayn? You wanna stop? Because we can," Liam said, genuinely worried.

"Just," Zayn breathed deeply again, exhaling way too harshly for him to be okay. "Give me a few, yeah?"

"Need a hug?" Zayn rolled his eyes and shook his head in denial. "Advice?"

This time Zayn hesitated, and nodded sheepishly.

Liam walked over to him and stood behind him, placing his hands on Zayn's shoulders. "Close your eyes, Zayn," he whispered.

Literally Zayn's nightmare come to life.

"I want you to breathe in and out _slowly_ and imagine what I say to you, all right, babe?" His voice enchanted him, made Zayn want to do anything Liam wanted. He could ask him to jump off a plane and land in the world's smallest swimming pool and he'd do it. So, he nodded.

"So, think of someone you really, really like, could be, I dunno, Justin Timberlake or something, yeah?"

Wrong, he likes Liam.  He imagines Liam.

"Think about them leaning over and speaking in a really soft manner for you to do anything for them. And you say yes because you'd obviously do anything for them."

All of a sudden it's too real, too much, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Think about the way they move, how you fantasize them writhing because of you, and only you." Liam's arms treaded up and down his arms and, _oh God_ , Zayn's chest feels like it could explode. "Think about their lips, grazing lightly against yours, their eyes wanting to take in every piece of your body because your reactions are exquisite to them."

Liam's voice had somehow gotten deeper, his body closer.  Zayn could feel Liam’s chest against his back. He tried not to think about the way Liam's heart seemed to thump a little faster than normal.

He also had to ignore the fact that Liam's dick was sort of demanding his attention against his lower back. Seriously, what the _fuck_.

Liam's exhales were warm against his neck, his ear.  In all honesty, he didn't know how to react anymore. Zayn thought he was going to push back against Liam, basically grind up at him but he just stood there drinking him and the intoxicating tone of his voice in.

"Think about them pinning you down on the expensive bed you probably have, the sounds it would make as you move in ravished sync, your name in their mouth like a sinful prayer, watching you become undone thanks to them."

He had to stop. "Liam," Liam's hands froze against Zayn’s biceps, "as much as I'm enjoying this, I'm gonna end up needing a minute from this minute."

Liam chuckled deeply and let go of him. Zayn's arms were already missing the warmth Liam's hands had seeped into his system.

Zayn opened his eyes, no longer as on-edge as he'd been. Liam cleared his throat behind him. "Are you, um, ready to try once more?"

Zayn played with his rings again. "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, all right, that's- uh, cool," Liam stuttered as he basically ran away to the control room, but not before Zayn caught a glimpse of red creeping behind the hand covering the nape of his neck.

Zayn stared at Liam as he sat down and started the song. He didn't miss his cue. Or his notes. In fact, his notes came out perfectly.

He stared at Liam and not his hand.

* * *

Zayn tossed and turned that night.  The way Liam treated him earlier in the studio was not a mates thing… right? He can’t be walking around talking like that to all his mates, surely.  

After all, he’d basically described all the things he’d imagined while Zayn had written the song. He’d written it specifically with Liam in mind. He didn’t have any shame in admitting that. He hadn’t told Liam though, and he thought he’d been more subtle in his flirtations. (Louis would glare at him if he mentioned it to him, he was sure of it.)

He groaned, knowing that sleep was just not going to be an option at that point, and rubbed at his eyes. Grumpily looking around for his phone, he got up from bed and wrapped himself in his sheets.

Looking through his Twitter, he saw that Liam was awake and live-tweeting _Batman Begins_. Did he not sleep?

 _u awake m8?_ he decided type out via text message.

**yeh watchin batman couldnt sleep lol**

**hbu shouldnt u be resting ur amazin voice :P**

_couldn’t sleep either ha x_

**ohhhh so what r u doin**

_nothin just chillin thinkin bout becoming a human burrito aha x_

**a zurrito? :D**

Zayn grinned to himself and shook his head. _haha yeh like that !!_

**maybe u need some1 to keep u warm ;D**

This is the kind of shit that confused Zayn. _maybe u should try it ha x_

**i might take u up on that:)**

_please do ;) x_

Zayn opened up his Twitter again and changed his icon to a new fan art he'd seen. _that's sick aha x_ he typed at the artist.

And then added: _the x is a kiss by the way ha._

He knew he didn't need to clarify that but he couldn't help but direct that at Liam. He hoped he'd see it.

He lay down in his bed again and before he drifted back to sleep, Liam sent him one final, torturous message.

**i know the x is a kiss u donut ;p**

* * *

"You wanna try a different riff there at the second chorus? I wanna have a large selection for when I mix it up."

"Yeah, how much do you want?"

Liam seemed to think about it behind his computer. "Just- fuck me up."

Zayn grinned. "With pleasure," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Liam had this nice red and black flannel shirt on, and as his notes soared, he imagined the buttons of it flying away with them.

As he finished, he felt himself come alive with an idea.

"Nice one there, Zayn, knew you had it in you." The speaker shuts off as Liam focuses back on his computer screen.

"Y'know," he started, wringing his hands before he could back out, "I've been thinking, maybe I need backup vocals for this song. Like, a harmony or something that isn't also, like, my own voice?" He bit his lip as he saw Liam take the suggestion and mull it in his head.

"That could actually be good, what are you thinking?"

"Maybe you could, like, try, and then we'll see if we should find, like, someone else or something, I dunno," Zayn stopped because otherwise he'd start rambling.

Liam's eyes were wide in alert. "Oh- oh no, I don't sing that well, not like you, you're perfect, maybe we could find an artist to collab with you or-"

"Liam," Zayn interrupted. "Just, do it for me, yeah?"

Liam seemed to be losing a mental battle, and Zayn threw in a challenging look for good measure, and that was it. He groaned in defeat and walked into the recording booth.

"You'll owe me big time, Zayn."

Zayn shrugged. "I think you'll thank me later."

Zayn gave Liam his headphones, their fingers brushing for a second and he almost lets them fall on the floor. He could only hear the excited beat his heart was thumping against his chest.

Liam had helped with the songs, sometimes playing the piano while he sang, or even directing him inside the booth (like that time Liam kept his hand pressed against his belly in an attempt for Zayn to breathe through there and not his lungs, and it’d worked because every time he did that track, the ghost of his fingers' pressure would kick in). But he'd sometimes sing, and Zayn would literally swoon.

Zayn wanted to hear Liam singing all day and night.

He sat down where Liam usually would be, and searched for the track's music. "So, I want you to sing maybe a bit of a lower harmony than mine, you've been listening to me howling into that mic for who knows how long-

"Two months," Liam puts in.

Zayn's taken aback. "Two months?"

"That's how long I've been working with, um, you," Liam kneaded at the back of his neck.

Zayn gaped for a moment. "Oh, right, well, you should know what tone I sing in in which parts, so just... bring it."

"Great musical direction there, Zayn," Liam rolled his eyes and hid them behind his hands. "Okay, I'm ready."

"I'll start you off with the bridge, all right?"

"Yup, sick," Liam assured.

And then Zayn pressed play.

Liam opened his mouth and it was like a masterpiece. Like watching Michelangelo work on the Sistine Chapel's ceiling. If Zayn hadn't been sitting down, his knees would've buckled and he'd be begging mercy. It was like his modesty heightened his talents.

He let Liam finish, and just- "Wow, what the fuck," he guffawed.

Liam physically deflated and his skin reddened. "I'm, sorry?"

"It's not fair for you to waste your talent, honestly."

Liam spluttered, overwhelmed, "What?"

"Seriously, come here and listen," Zayn offered.

Hesitantly, Liam gingerly placed his headphones on the mic stand and walked out of the room, hands in his pockets.

He sat down next to Zayn and once again he pressed play, Liam's voice flooding the studio. Liam gnawed at his fingernails while listening to the playback. As it finished, Liam frowned at him, scratching his beard.

"You thought that was good?"

Zayn wanted to scratch his nails against his own face.

Instead, he placed the laptop on the table, and took Liam's face in his hands, forcing his shy brown eyes to look at Zayn's eager ones. "Liam Payne, you are brilliant, and your voice is sick, and I really wanna, like, kiss you right now."

He was silent for a moment, and his eyes searched for any sign of protest, but in place he saw Liam subtly licking his own lips and staring at Zayn's. So he went for it.

It was euphoric. He relished the way Liam's breath caught in his throat but seemed to find release as his lips welcomed Zayn's, and the smell of him overtook all of Zayn's senses. He stroked Liam's soft cheeks, and Liam's hands reached over to tangle themselves in Zayn's hair. If Zayn thought he could explode before, he was very wrong. Instead, it was an implosion what was happening in his chest as Liam softly caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Zayn would definitely recommend anyone to kiss Liam, but he called bagsy. He wanted to call bagsy forever.

As they separated, Zayn saw that Liam's entire being seemed to have a certain glow when he beamed at Zayn. He wondered if Liam could actually see him with the way the crinkles by his eyes folded happily around them, a dimple he hadn't seen before appearing within his cheeks. He seemed to vibrate with energy, and Zayn wanted to absorb every bit of it if it meant keeping Liam happy always.

"You should make me sing more often," Liam whispers deeply, his eyes gleaming with unspoken emotions. Zayn stroked his bottom lip with his thumb.

"Maybe I should. My songs are quite fine, so I've heard."

Liam leaned in again and whispered against his lips, "Lyrical genius, really."

Zayn hummed in amusement, accepting Liam's lips once more.

He wanted to scrap all his previous songs. None would compare to the soft sounds that would come out of Liam's mouth. He'd dedicate his entire discography to the way his tongue seemed to seamlessly gain entrance into his own mouth.

He no longer believed in hell because his personal heaven was when Liam sneaked his hands under Zayn's shirt. Zayn had been sinful, but the things he wanted to do to Liam, with Liam, they would get him kicked out of hell, for sure.

But he'd gladly take some sort of purgatory state in order to keep Liam.

* * *

It’s not that Zayn hates recording.

He just hates when Liam's not there helping him produce the music he wants to make.

This "Replacement Liam" kept getting on his nerves, the sheer Not-Liam-ness of him astounding as he started getting angry at Zayn because he wasn't singing on the beat. At the first sign of the guy starting to yell, Zayn mildly took his headphones off and walked out of the recording studio.

He furiously took out his pack of cigarettes and went to his favorite smoking spot behind the building. He lit one up and started inhaling, hands shaking and breath quivering. Zayn leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, and let himself slide down onto the floor.

Liam wouldn't have treated him like such a dick. Why did he choose today of all days to skip work? He should've gone home as soon as he heard that Liam had to go to the hospital today to get his kidneys checked out and Zayn had a replacement producer for the day. He'd thought he could make it work with this too lanky, too old, too alien man that looked nothing like Liam.

But as soon as they stepped into the studio the chemistry just failed. It fell completely flat from the get-go. He'd wanted to insult him, but somehow he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

His pocket buzzed. As lazily as possible, he took out his mobile from his jeans.

**were r u?**

Liam.

_at the back of the studio smoking my lungs away in the hopes of getting rid of anxiety :/_

Zayn twirled his phone in his left hand, his other too busy holding his cigarette.

The door that led to the back alley opened and, shit, this was the only place that had become sacred to Zayn and now someone wanted to share?

"You alright there, Zayn?"

Of course it's Liam. He burrowed his head between his knees. A muffled _no_ came out, and Liam sat down beside him.

"Can I?" Zayn lifted his head long enough to see he was gesturing at Zayn's cigarette and passed it along.

Liam took a long drag from it and stared at the wall in front of them. Zayn wanted to breathe in the smoke that he exhaled in this ungodly way, with hooded eyelids and protuberant lips.

"So," Liam started, "that guy's an arsehole."

Zayn scoffed but his indignant huffs quickly turned into a sort of desperate laugh. "You could say that, yeah," and Liam joined in on the laughs.

"You know why I had to get you your substitute, no?" he said with a mock-straight face.

Zayn shook his head in denial.

"Had to get my kidneys checked out because I didn't, like, have one, right?" Liam's smile was still in place. "But apparently it grew back, or healed itself or something, and the doctors don't know how." He started laughing in loud guffaws and Zayn shook his head in astonishment. "I have a magical kidney!"

Now Zayn joined in on his fit, tears in their eyes and leaning on each other.

What was magical was how infectious Liam’s joy seemed to be, he can’t deny him this either.

As their laughter died down, smiles still in place, they just embraced the comfortable silence that seemed to insist on embedding itself whenever they were quiet.

With a sigh, Zayn looked at Liam. “I have to get back in there, right?”

Liam shrugged. “Only if you want to. I’m here now, though, and you only need one fantastic producer, yeah?”

Zayn nudged him with his shoulder. “I only need you, Liam, and I’ve grown co-dependent of your musical genius.”

He laughed at that and that made Zayn feel lighter. “You only need me for my talents, that’s what you’re saying.”

“I’m sure you’ve got enough of that to spare,” Zayn kissed the corner of his mouth, and got up, helping Liam along the way for a change.

“There’s only you and me then, Zayn,” Liam said as he wrapped his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and walked with him tucked into his side.

“Liam and Zayn, R&B singing duo of the decade,” Zayn announced.

“In your dreams I’ll be singing on stage with you,” he chuckled in reply and opened up the door to the studio, where a very angry man stood fuming.

“Oh, so now you fuckers decide to get here,” he spat at them, but Liam was all smiles. It was frankly terrifying.

“Yeah, now we’re here, so you’re obviously not needed, though thank you for being here on such short notice.”

The man let out an indignant huff, picked up his things and stomped away.  

“He’ll probably be having some choice words with some magazine now.”

Zayn shrugged, not really bothered by it. “Management will probably handle it.”

Liam nodded as if saying _Of course_ and started taking out his laptop and notes.

“So, shall we continue?”

* * *

He no longer ignores the rapid beating in his heart whenever he’s around Liam. He doesn't even question it when it happens while Liam's hand casually sneaks into his now whenever they sat down to watch a movie in their down time.

It's just a fact of Zayn's life now that Liam was there and he wasn't letting go.

So when the opportunity arises to fly to L.A. for his most recent collaboration for the album, he _has_ to take Liam with him.

“C’mon Li, have you ever even travelled out of Great Britain?” he whined at Liam on the phone, while packing his suitcase.

“Nope,” he sighed, filling up Zayn’s bedroom with the sound. “You’re not going to spoil me, Zayn.”

“But I want to, and it’s work! It’s a work trip! You’ll meet new people, make connections, and you’ll be with me the entire time,” Zayn reasoned. He discarded a red shirt and threw it on the other side of the room.

He basically could hear Liam mulling it over on his side of the call. “Is it really for your album?”

Zayn rolled his eyes and huffed. “Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t be flying, I’m terrified of it.”

“But couldn’t the artist come here instead? It’s so last minute,” Liam says just as Zayn  picks up another shirt in his hands.

“That’s the whole point, it’s last minute, and this is the only time she has between her concerts and like other engagements, so tell me so I can meet you at your flat and go directly to the airport.” Zayn smells the shirt and screws up his nose in disgust, the smell emanating from it making him want to burn it.

“So it’s a female artist? You’ve kept that hush-hush,” Liam replied, and Zayn wanted to hit himself because he wanted it to be a surprise for Liam, but now he could bribe him with that.

“Oh yeah, really high-profile, it’ll be great for the fans,” Zayn smirks. He looks at his suitcase and makes an approving noise, closing it.

He can hear Liam groaning. “You’re killing me!”

“Well, if you go with me, you’ll meet her, she’s incredibly nice, she’ll love you. Make a choice because I just finished my suitcase and in 30 minutes I’ll be out, yeah?”

There’s silence on the phone and for a second Zayn thinks Liam’s hung up frustrated until- “Fine! But it’ll take me some time to do my bags. How long will it be?”

Zayn fistpumps in his empty room. “It’ll only be like two days, make your arrangements, I can get you someone to dogsit Loki, if you want.”

“Alright, alright, just let me know when you’re out of your apartment, I’ll see you.”

And see him he did. When Zayn got there with his driver, Liam was already waiting by the front door, jeans hanging low and the red plaid shirt that looked too good compared to Zayn’s drab outfit.

He lifted his suitcase onto the car and off they went.

It was a pretty uneventful flight, all and all. Not much turbulence, and neither Liam or Zayn had thrown up.

He hated the long flights, but it’s all for the art, so he handles it quite well. Liam’s jumpy almost the entire time, though, and even with the reassuring smiles he kept giving Zayn, his right leg kept anxiously jumping throughout the flight. It only took Zayn playing a movie on his laptop and he settled down a bit, taking Zayn’s hand and cuddling closer to him.

Getting out of LAX was a nightmare though. Somehow, someone spread the news through social media that Zayn would be arriving today, so they were swarmed as soon as they got out security. Fans were lined up at the exit, screaming and shoving phones at him. He looked at Liam, his overwhelmed expression making Zayn realize that this was what could await him if they were ever a public couple. Paparazzi hounding him whenever he’d go out for a jog, fans wanting to take pictures when you’re trying to enjoy a cup of coffee and catch up with friends, interviewers wanting to claw out every single detail of your life. That would be Liam’s life.

His thoughts were interrupted by his head of security, asking him if he wanted to stop and take pictures with fans or bypass them completely.

Zayn grinned and rummaged through his backpack and found the marker he usually has to carry around nowadays. He would show Liam how wonderful it can be, meeting fans, how it could be his favorite thing in the world.

He told the guard to wait with Liam so they could walk to their ride together, so he wouldn’t be caught unaware with the impending paparazzi outside.

Zayn signed posters, posed for selfies, and smiled at every fan he could. A few fans fainted from pure exposure to Zayn Malik’s smile. It’s a common occurrence that he really couldn’t control. He gave brief hugs, handshakes, and pouted at a crying girl who only proceeded to cry even more.

After what only seemed like a minute, another guard came up behind him telling him he needs to start moving.

Bidding everyone goodbye, he walked over to Liam and put his hand on his lower back to start walking away.

Liam leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, Zayn, will you give me your autograph too, babe? Maybe a selfie or two?”

Zayn laughed. “You wish.”

As soon as they stepped outside, the flashes started going off.  Zayn tried to guard Liam as much as his lanky body could. He tilted his chin up, trying to look as overpowering and intimidating as possible with a rolling carry-on suitcase in his other hand.

His bodyguard rushed them to the door of the SUV, taking their bags with him.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of people,” Liam said, amazed.

Zayn shrugged, sighing as he took off his snapback to ruffle up his now-grey hair. The car started moving, the tinted windows blocking them yet they could see the photographers outside already stashing away their equipment, ready to find another celebrity to harass.

“You get used to it,” Zayn finally said. “Are you ready to meet my friend and newest collaborator?”

Liam grinned back at him, already buzzing with excitement. “Can I at least see the lyrics you have?”

Zayn handed him his notebook, which once would’ve scared him, but with Liam it was easy.

“Wait, these are all your parts,” Liam said, confused.

Zayn smirked at him. “She will be adding some verses, I sent her a rough demo so she knew what she could add.”

“This is so strange,” he replied.

“I trust her, she’ll do magic, just like you do.”

Liam scoffed at that and took out his phone, taking pictures of blurry trees and whatever he saw interesting enough for his Twitter.

Zayn was singing along to an old Frank Ocean song (he really needed to text him to get his shit together and put out his new album), when Liam started pulling his arm.

“Look, Zayn, let’s get American burgers, and American french fries, and milkshakes!” His eager, happy face was one that Zayn couldn’t say no to.

He checked his watch to see if they could be on time to the studio.

“Alright, but it’s gotta be on a drive-through.”

Liam whooped and Zayn pinched his nipple.

With their In-N-Out in hand, they ate happily in the backseat of the car, throwing fries at each other’s faces when Liam was too mesmerized with his burger or Zayn with the Subway sandwich someone else had thought of getting for him, slurping their milkshakes as loudly as they could.

Zayn had travelled with his friends, cousins, sisters, but never had he had as much fun as he did just from the airport to a studio.

“D’you think we’d have time to go to Disneyland,” Liam asks after seeing a huge billboard advertising the theme park. “Or Harry Potter World?”

“I don’t know, Liam, I wish,” Zayn said, Liam nodding in understanding. “Maybe we can come again soon, we’ll just go wherever you like. God knows we’ll need some vacation time after the album is over and before I start promoting it.”

That seemed to appease Liam.

Finally, the car stopped in front of a really fancy building, tall and made entirely of glass, a chandelier hanging at the entrance.

“Is this where we’re going to be recording?”

They heard the driver get out and open the door for them. “I guess it is,” Zayn answered for him.

They walked into the studio building, immediately being greeted by a dressed-up assistant, offering them drinks, which they declined, their bellies still full of fatty American food.

The pretty assistant took them to a waiting room by the studio room they’d be working in, and Zayn held Liam’s hand. It was more of a case of him needing some human contact rather than trying to calm down either of their nerves.

“You seem pretty casual at the moment, you’re not nervous?” Zayn squeezed his hand.

“I’m actually having a proper fit in my head, but I’m not that jumpy anymore,” he whispered in reply, shoulder pressing onto Zayn’s.

The assistant came into the room, her clacking heels echoing against marbled floor. “She’s ready to see you,” she said with a pleasant smile, guiding them into the recording studio and closing the door behind them. Zayn let go of Liam’s hand and he felt something in his chest swoop at the absence.

Zayn wished he’d taken out his phone to record Liam’s face when he saw her.

“Zayn! It’s so nice to finally see you again!” her smile was completely honest, and she reached for him for a hug, which he reciprocated with equal enthusiasm. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said into the hug, and he let go to smile at her.

“Of course, Nicki,” he grinned, and turned around to introduce her to Liam. “This is Liam Payne, my new record producer. He had no idea he was going to meet you today.”

Liam floundered for a few seconds, then glared at Zayn. “Nice to meet you, Miss Minaj, this guy right here is a right prat for holding out on me,” he extended his hand and shook her well-manicured hand.

“Zayn, what a charming young man you have with you, is he as good as you’ve been saying?” Nicki poked Zayn’s chest, which made Zayn blush.

“Talking about me, have you Zayn?” Liam smiled, also blushing as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Of course, babe, everyone should know how amazing you are,” Zayn pouted.

Nicki cooed at them, and Zayn had half a mind that she’d start pinching their cheeks soon. “You guys are _so_ cute! You’ve been holding out on me, Zayn!”

They all had a laugh, and Zayn would’ve thought they’d all known each other forever. Nicki clapped her hands. “Ok, who’s ready to work?”

“Well, we’re a bit jet lagged, but we wanna hear what you have, yeah?” Zayn looked at Liam and he nodded in agreement.

“Of course, honey, here, sit in this couch, it’s the comfiest in the room. I want y’all to feel as comfortable as possible,” she grinned at them, and by the looks of Liam, he seemed to already be in love with her. She walked into the recording booth, her pink sweatpants brightening up the room. Once inside, she put on her headphones, leaving one of her ears free of them. “This would be the first time I do it in the studio, so it may still be rough.” Flicking her scarf so it covered her throat, she signaled her assistant to play Zayn’s track.

Zayn only had a few moments to feel nervous because as soon as his song started playing, he knew her lyrics fit comfortably with his. Her bars were amazing, and it was all he could do to stare in awe. Without looking, he knew Liam would be in the same predicament. It suddenly hit him, how real this album was. It was going to happen. It was going to be amazing.

When she finished, she gleamed at them and they clapped loudly for her.

“You like it?” she said as soon as she got out.

“Of course, I think it goes, like, really well with the song if I do say so myself, and I think Liam agrees, don’t you?”

“It’s perfect, I’ll start drawing up better, cleaner versions of Zayn’s demo as soon as possible. Are we coming tomorrow to get mastered cuts?” Liam said, his business tone impressive. It made Zayn believe Liam would’ve ended up here one way or another.

Too soon they were saying goodbye, Nicki hugging Liam and actually pinching his cheek. “So cute!” she exclaimed laughing amiably at his reddening face.

On their way to the hotel, the two couldn’t stop chattering. Mostly because Liam was too excited for words, and Zayn was absorbing it all. He observed the thrilled way he seemed to talk with his hands but toyed with the seams of the seat to disguise his nervousness, even how his cheeks pushed up his eyes, making them all squinty and adorable looking.

He couldn’t get enough of it.

They got to their hotel, and Liam was still talking about different kinds of bass drops he could try on the song when they got their room keys.

As soon as they got into the elevator, Zayn cornered Liam, making Liam’s prattle come to a complete and utter halt. “What’re y’doing, Zayn?” Liam said, a smile still in place, albeit more careful.

“You get all flustered when you’re inspired, and it’s making me a bit, like, inspired,” he said with a laugh, toying with Liam’s shirt collar and shifting Liam’s snapback so the brim is on the back.

Liam scoffed, trying to hide his grin into his shoulder. “I’m really excited, babe,” he said softly, gnawing on his bottom lip, and placing his hands on the small of Zayn’s back.

“I know, it’s adorable.” He reached up for the inch of a height difference there was between them, and placed a kiss on Liam’s forehead, running his thumbs by his cheeks, feeling their budding warmth and kissing both of them too. The bell rang for their floor, and Liam took Zayn’s hands, leading him to their rooms.

Laughing, Liam ran towards it, pulling a grinning Zayn along. He reached Zayn’s room door and pushed Zayn against it. Grabbing Zayn by his neck, he swiped his lips against Zayn’s at an agonizing pace. Zayn reached around to press Liam closer to him, enjoying this side of Liam, living off of pure adrenaline, not having a care in the world. He couldn’t get enough of him. And as Liam wickedly pressed his tongue into Zayn’s mouth, he couldn’t get enough of that either.

Yet, as soon as Zayn felt he was getting the hang of it, developing a special liking to the taste of Liam, Liam slowed down. He pecked Zayn one, two, three times, then leaned back, making Zayn slowly open his eyes to meet his warm brown ones.

“Why’d y’stop,” Zayn basically whined into Liam’s shoulder.

He started shaking with laughter, as he stepped away. “As much as I love this, especially your illegally long eyelashes, this is a work trip- or so you said,” Liam winked at him, finally walking towards his actual room next to his.

Zayn stared at him. “Are y’using my own words against me, Leeyum?”

He shrugged and opened his door. “Maybe I am. ‘Night, babe,” Liam said, shutting the door behind him, his grin still burning Zayn’s eyes.

Zayn groaned, and entered his own hotel suite.

After shamelessly wanking in the shower at the image of spreading Liam on one of these huge hotel beds, he realized that the only work he would get done these days would be him getting worked up over Liam.

This was going to be a long journey.

* * *

“I saw that you recently traveled to LA, is there anything new on the horizon, Mr. Malik?” the interviewer asked on the phone.  

“Well, I was putting some finishing touches on the new album, working on a secret collaboration, which is why couldn’t meet you at the station today, Grimmy. But now I'm back in London, cleaning up the songs and that. ” He was fiddling with his rings again.

“Really?” Nick sounded excited. “Should we be expecting a new single soon?”

“Yeah, probably, soon,” he laughed, and Liam chose that moment to quietly step into the room before noticing he was on the phone.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” he whispered at him from the door.

“Nick, can you, like, hang on for a sec, my producer just walked into the room,” Zayn said with a smile on his face.

“By all means, tell him to join in, we’re dying to hear about the details of your album,” Nick commented delightedly, and a tense Liam sat next to Zayn, eyes wide in alert as he greets the radio personality.

“Am I right to say I’m talking to Nick Grimshaw?”

Nick laughed, “Yes you are, though Zayn hasn’t introduced us yet!”

“You’re talking to my producer, DJ Big Payno,” Zayn grinned.

“Oi, that’s not my name, that was my secret identity when I was younger, Mr. Bradford Bad Boy,” Liam shoved Zayn good-naturedly, his smile making him light up, as it did.

“Nah, his name is Liam Payne, the best music producer I could’ve not asked for,” Zayn said.

“Is that right, Zayn?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about, he’s like a lyrical genius,” Liam hid his smile behind his shoulder as he looks at Zayn and it was so endearing he could pinch his cheeks.

“He’s too modest, Nick,” Zayn rolled his eyes as Liam sticked out his tongue at him.

“So the rumours are true then?”

“Which ones?”  
“Well, there were reports that you had a strop because they wanted to change your musical producers?”

Zayn and Liam practically snorted at the same time.

Zayn inhaled deeply, choosing his words carefully. “Nick, when it comes to your own music, you can only share it with people you trust at first, yeah, because it’s personal and you’ll be sharing that with millions of people hopefully one day, so you wanna make sure it’s sick, like. With Liam, it sorta clicked, y’know?” He looked at Liam, who nodded encouragingly. “Other producers didn’t understand what I wanted to convey which is why it took so long for me to start on this record. But this guy enters the studio, steals my notebook and starts playing what I wanted to actually convey through a song but couldn’t put a finger on, and that was it for me.” Zayn stared at Liam’s eyes and they probably were the image of two sappy lovers.

Liam took his hand and held onto it. Zayn wanted to kiss those big, safe hands.

“Sounds like a love story instead of music business chemistry, if you ask me. I wish I could say the same about my producers here,” Grimmy joked on the other side of the call.

Zayn smiled at Liam. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Zayn brought his hand to caress Liam’s cheeks, his thumb tracing the fold of his lips, and Liam’s breath caught as he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“So Zayn, I am practically contractually obligated to ask you this, but is there anyone special in your life right now?” He wanted to hang up on Nick for disturbing such an intimate moment, honestly.

Zayn smiled fondly at Liam and tilted his head. “Maybe,” Liam laughed at Zayn’s response. “I’m working on it,” he winked at him.

“Hear that, Zquad? Zayn Malik is getting busy. Well, maybe, he’s working on it.”

Liam shook his head. “The person’s just giving him a hard time, he’s perfect,” Liam said offhandedly, and soundlessly kissed the palm of Zayn’s hand.

“M’not perfect at all,” Zayn mumbled, cheeks reddening.

“Well, Liam, I trust you’re giving him a hand to get this person’s attention?” Nick cut in, not knowing that the tension between Zayn and Liam was palpable in the empty conference room.

“Maybe, I’m working on it,” Liam said between laughs and Zayn glared at him.

“Well, I think that's all we have time for today, big thanks to Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne for joining us today, I’m sure we’ll hear a lot more from these two.”

“Thank _you_ , Nick,” they said in unison, bursting into laughter as they do, and Zayn hung up.

“That was fun,” Liam pointed out to Zayn.

Zayn got up and pulled Liam along with him. He plopped down on the table and brought Liam with him between his legs. “I can think of more fun things, like getting back at you for that stunt you pulled at the hotel in LA,” Zayn suggested, tongue pressed against his teeth as he smiles up at Liam.

“I’m all ears,” he replied softly, leaning in to catch Zayn’s lips with his. Zayn reveled in the lingering taste of the strawberries Liam had had with his breakfast that morning, clutching onto Liam’s neck and stroking the hairs at the back of his neck

Liam grabbed his waist, hands under his shirt while his tongue made way to his own through Zayn’s parted lips. Slowly, Liam laid Zayn down on the table, his slight, but toned body looming over Zayn.

Zayn’s heart thumped hard, sure of his decision that, yes, he was going to work hard for Liam’s own heart.

Liam’s mouth traveled down to the side of his neck, and Zayn couldn’t help the mindless little gasp that came out of his mouth as he felt his stomach flip.  He stuttered as Liam started humming his own song against his collarbones, over the kiss tattoo, unbuttoning his shirt while he went along.

“Fuck,” he muttered, recognizing the song, the one Liam was playing the day he met him.

“You’re so beautiful, babe,” Liam helplessly whispered against the outline of his ribcage.

Zayn felt himself get hard at the same time Liam tickled his sides with his fingertips. He grabbed Liam’s face and brought it back to his face-level, sucking on his bottom lip, loving the warm breath fanning over him. Liam started grinding down against Zayn, his own hardness pressed against Zayn’s thigh.

Zayn desperately tugged at Liam’s shirt, and in a blink Liam whipped it off his body and had thrown it towards the other corner of the private office Zayn had decided to conduct this radio interview in the studio.  He hungrily pressed his hands over Liam’s flexed abdomen, his pectoral muscles gaining perspiration.  He wanted to suck on his chest, press kisses on the birthmark near his collarbones, in a way that let everyone that Zayn Malik had marked Liam Payne’s body.  However, Liam had other plans, seeing as he extricated his hands away from his body and held them over Zayn’s head.

There was only so much Zayn can do pinned against a table, but apparently Liam had other things in mind as he hissed through the friction of their jeans. It was delicious, the way Liam nipped at his neck, his hums making Zayn vibrate in time with Liam's dry humping.

He was feeling dizzy with how good Liam felt all over him, overwhelming his senses, short-circuiting his thoughts in his head. It didn’t help he felt he was about to come in his pants like a teenager.

“You about to come?” Liam gasps into Zayn’s ear, and Zayn grunted in assent, digging his nails into Liam’s now sweaty hands.

With a lurch and what felt like a thousand pleasurable tingles creeping all over his body and centered around his dick, Zayn came, panting loudly as his body vibrated against Liam’s trembling own.

Laughing, Liam stepped off of Zayn, spreading his happiness to Zayn, who felt completely thinned out and ready for a kip.

“What are you laughing at, Leeyum?” Zayn said groggily, trying to burrow his face on his chest.

“If only you were that enthusiastic while recording, we would’ve been done so long ago,” Liam giggled into the top of Zayn’s head.

Zayn scoffed at the accusation and pinched Liam’s nipple, which only made Liam giggle some more.  "I can't believe Nicki Minaj called you cute, you're horrible."

He groaned and stretched, regaining the feeling in his toes. “Y’know we can’t stay in here forever, we got some more work to do, yeah?” Zayn mumbled, throwing his skinny arm over his eyes, things still a bit hazy from the short strain.

“Yeah, but for now, I’m fine right here, with you,” Liam said easily. Zayn uncovered his eyes and turned his head to look at him, and he saw all the light in the universe collected in the whole that is Liam fuckin’ Payne.  

And he knew there was no going back.

* * *

The atmosphere was tense inside the studio.  Label executives were lined up behind Liam, who was working the buttons behind the glass. They took the appearance of foreign beer and liquor bottles on a shelf at a pub, intimidating just by their mere presence and Zayn was feeling clueless about their use.

To say that Zayn felt nervous was an understatement.

He had to put on display this image of a hard-working singer (which he was) which the executives probably didn’t believe.

They only saw what the public would perceive, which was a very superficial and two-dimensional Zayn that brought music and sometimes was at the center of a scandal.

As he finished singing the track they’d chosen to work for them, the melancholic closing note reverberating through him still, he hung his headphones and walked out. Liam’s encouraging smile helped ease the stress concentrating on his shoulders.

Zayn leaned back against the control table, waiting for the attack.

One of them cleared his throat, his suit shiny against the orange light filtering from the ceiling. "Mr. Malik, how soon could you have a list for us to decide what would go on your new album?"

Zayn frowned. Usually they would criticize his work before they asked that but he looked at Liam to answer.

"Actually I think what you saw was the last of it. We're done recording for this album, I think. We can have the songs ready for you by no less than two days," Liam voice took on this professional, domineering tone, which Zayn didn't mind a bit. That was the reason it took him a second to realize he'd said they were done recording songs.

"Wait, really?" Zayn blurted out.

Liam gave him a satisfied nod. Zayn could cry out with joy when they were done with this meeting.

"Good then, it sounds promising," said the same man and the rest started shaking their hands as goodbye and filed out.

When they cleared out, Zayn turned to Liam and gave out an incredible bark of laughter, the shock finally wearing out, then Liam ran over to him and hugged him laughing too. Wrapping his arms around Liam's neck, they kept laughing as Liam twirled them around in just pure, unadulterated happiness.

"We did it!" Liam exclaimed between giggles, which only made Zayn want to laugh more. He felt tears clouding his vision because they did it, they recorded Zayn's music, though it was also now Liam's too. He drowned his laughter in Liam’s shoulder, Liam choosing to just kiss his cheek over and over, making Zayn feel lighter than air, like he could just float away with only blissful fondness powering him.

As the elation finally seemed to dim, Liam put Zay down, both of them stumbling all the while, Zayn falling on top of the controls with Liam bracing himself on either side of Zayn.

Zayn took the opportunity to grab Liam's head and start kissing every bit of skin he could. Those cheeks he sometimes wanted to pinch but at the same time, they had been the main attraction in his half-assed fantasies involving Liam on his knees and sucking him off. Those considerate brown eyes that had made Zayn want to melt into a puddle but at the same time could be mischievous, sinful. Zayn's lips travelled a route around his favorite Liam parts.

He could only wish to discover more of him.

Liam's hands went to his jaw, caressing with soft, thoughtful fingers. Zayn saw Liam leaning down, his lips a breath way. Zayn's bottom lip caught Liam's own, and with a push from his hands to Liam's neck, their lips finally met.

It wasn't as heated as the kiss from the conference room. It was full of happiness, and euphoria, and an overall sense of fulfillment. It was _their_ kiss.

He knew his own lips were a bit chapped, but it didn’t matter as the tip of Liam’s tongue tasted them, and he craved. He craved all of Liam.

He craved his voice, his body, his soul, his eyes on Zayn.

Most of all he craved to be a part of Liam’s happiness, like he was at the moment.

So he grabbed at Liam to satiate his craving, grinding his dick against Liam’s thigh, relishing Liam’s groan that seemed to journey down his entire body.

“I want you,” he murmured roughly against Liam’s lips, palming his arse to accentuate his petition. “Do you want me?”

Liam licked the side of his neck, sucking at it as Zayn tilted his head in invitation to continue his ministrations, then whispered in his ear tantalizingly slow as if savoring each of the syllables, “All the fuckin’ time.”

“Good,” Zayn gasped.

With a hurried motion, Zayn snaked his hands to the front of Liam’s ripped jeans (they always hung low on his hips and he would’ve recommended a belt or a tighter fit pair of trousers, but they made Zayn’s brain almost short-circuit), undid the button and pulled them down. Their mixed pants and heavy breathing surrounded the room, making their exchange echo with the sound of this moment.

So when he wrapped his hand around Liam’s dick, he might’ve wanted to take this into the recording booth and record the incredibly bewitching deep noises coming out of Liam Payne’s mouth.

He could record a brand new album with the whimpers drowned against Zayn’s neck as he rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock, its cover the arching of Liam’s back towards his body as he gripped his arse.

It was as if Liam had been hard and ready the entire time they’d been in the building, because after a few tugs, tracing the underside of his cock, and palming his bum, he came all over Zayn’s fingers.

Liam laughed into Zayn’s skin, and he couldn’t help but reciprocate with his own giggles. “Were you that eager, babe?”

Liam, in his crinkly-eyed goodness and pink lips, threw his head back as he nodded gleefully, and Zayn was completely gone.

At that moment he decided he had to add Liam's song in the album. He'd done so much for Zayn, that was the only way he could ever repay him.

As Liam took Zayn's fingers into his mouth, he thought maybe he could think about that later.

* * *

“Give me one good reason why we should buy your new album?”

Lights were blinding him all around him as he tried his best to focus on the reporter in front of him, remembering to ‘smile, Zayn, don’t smolder, you’re full of sunshine, love’ as his mum would say.

“Liam Payne, he’s the best producer I’ve ever met, and it’s been an honor working with him, yeah,” he replied with ease and the reporter nodded and smiled like she was waiting for Zayn to say those exact same words.

“We’ve heard rumors that the two of you are dating, is there any truth to them?” she eyed him hungrily, and Zayn had to fight against the urge to stammer a response or blush at the implication.  It didn’t help that the image that came to mind was of Liam’s face while coming undone due to Zayn’s handiwork.  He cleared his throat.

“Well, I could see why it could be rumored, we fit together, we’re best mates, but I don’t think I could ever deserve him. That’s definitely different than the time there were rumors about Harry having his affair with Obama.” The reporter laughed amiably, touching Zayn’s designer suit’s sleeve.

“That was a great moment, but really, please tell us whether it’s true or not, the world is _dying_ to know,” she exclaimed.

For a second, Zayn floundered, thinking about whether he should spin the question, or just actually answer.

His PR manager was going to have a field day. “We’re _something_ , I guess you could say that,” he could see the reporter’s jaw dropping, “but right now we’re focused on the music, it’s what matters right now, yeah.”

Then, his manager decided to signal him that it was time to end the interview. The reporter was still gazing open-mouthed at him. “Well, I gotta go, y’know how it is, love, this was lovely.” He gave her a prize-winning smile, and she snapped out of it in time to say goodbye too and thank him for his time.

As more lights engulfed his vision, he realized he now actually had a reason to smile at this red carpet.

* * *

That night, when Zayn got to his house (carrying an award he won for a collaboration with Frank Ocean), Liam was waiting in front of his big-ass TV, his laptop in front of him as if he’d been working on it and gave up in order to chill.

He could get used to this.

“Hey babe, miss me?” Zayn called, taking off his shoes by the entrance and leaving them by the side, where there was a small mountain of shoes.

“Nah, watched you on the telly, didn’t I?” he grinned from the sofa and Zayn plopped beside him after kissing his cheek.

“S’not the same though, who else would make you smell their smelly socks?” he said while bringing his socked feet up to Liam’s nose, which he batted away in disgust to Zayn’s delight.

“Definitely not someone I have _something_ with,” he said cheekily.

He’d seen the interview. That was fast.

“I would’ve preferred to say we were like, dating, or something, but I needed your permission to do that,” he smiled at Liam, and he bit his bottom lip as he mulled it over.

“Zayn, I don’t know,” he studied his hands, obviously trying to prevent looking at Zayn.

“Why not? It’s okay, but I just want to know,” he said, though imagining a life without Liam was pretty painful to do.

“Because, Zayn, you’re you,” he signaled at Zayn, who was gripping his award tightly in his hands, “and you said you don’t deserve me when it’s obviously the other way around.” This time he looked up at Zayn, not really sad, but insecure.  

Zayn put the award on the floor and scrambled up to wrap his arms around Liam’s shoulders, basically straddling him as Liam snuggled his face into the side of Zayn’s neck. “I don’t want anyone else though, Leeyum. I want this, with you, for as long as you want and however you want.” He trailed his fingers through Liam's wet curls on his head. "Also, let's stop with this deserving business, yeah? It's obvious we're both great, very deserving to be loved," Zayn added into Liam's hair. Liam chuckled at that and softly nodded.

He kissed the top of Liam’s forehead and tilted his head up to meet his eyes, both hands cradling his face. Liam swallowed and took a deep breath. “I love you Zayn, and that scares me because it's so easy with you.”

Zayn could’ve sworn the whole world stopped for him, for this moment in time. “I know babe, I love you too, even when just thinking about it makes me want to shut myself in a room and never go out.”

Liam kissed the inside of Zayn’s hand, eyes screwed close.

“But I’d be outside 24/7 if it meant I could be with you, because it's easy for me too," Zayn managed to get out, stammering of his heart be damned.

Liam nodded, a hesitant smile on his face. “Sappy, love.”

Zayn leaned his forehead against Liam’s.

“So, what do you say? Give it a ride and see?”

Liam laughed. It was so easy for him. “Wanna give several things a ride,” he said suggestively, and Zayn pinched his nipple.

“I was having a moment here, you sex maniac.”

Suddenly, Liam was gripping Zayn’s waist with one hand and his bum in the other as he got up towards the direction of Zayn’s bedroom. “Moment’s over,” he said, and Zayn held onto his neck.

He stumbled for a moment with a belt Zayn had left on the floor, but Zayn held on. He didn’t want to let go.

And as Liam set him down on the bed, taking off every piece of clothing, kissing every inch and corner of his body to make him writhe with pleasure, he held on.

Liam took his dick into his mouth with a wicked twist of his tongue, as he teased his hole with his middle finger, and Zayn still held on.

He ravished him tenderly, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his throat, as Zayn slowly, torturously inserting a finger of his own into Liam, both their breaths hitching at the closeness. But Zayn held on.

As Liam rode him, his eyes heatedly staring at Zayn, his name slipping out in a groan with his head thrown back when Zayn hitched his hips up to meet him, just to keep holding onto Liam.

Even with Liam pressing his palms onto Zayn's chest, hard enough that Zayn briefly imagined his hands imprinted on his body permanently, he travelled his hands up Liam's sculpted arms to let him know that he was still holding on.

When Zayn heard Liam's grunts getting more desperate, he knew he was almost there. As he let go, his come all over Zayn's belly, the image of Liam becoming completely undone unravels him. He came still inside Liam, rough hands contradicting the easiness of Liam's stroking of his cheek, letting Zayn know that he was holding on to him too.

Who knew holding on could be this easy.

* * *

"Zayn Malik's new album transcends this year's R&B and Hip Hop released album. His smooth and emotional vocals make anyone's heart swoon, even if it is his third album, it feels fresh and like it could blow away his previous tracks completely out of the water," Liam's voice carried through the kitchen door, where he was waiting for his cup of tea to be done. "This one should go down on the music history books, because the way Zayn Malik jumps genres from track to track with enviable ease that shouldn't work on any other artist yet fits him like milk and cookies (the really gooey, soft, delicious kind). Whether it's Malik's natural versatile talent, or the genius work of his brand-new producer and boyfriend Liam Payne, I think I speak for everyone that the union is truly legendary."

"Told ya you're a genius, babe," Zayn said offhandedly from his seat at the dining table.

"Yeah but it's different when it's an actual review of your work, darling."

"You get off on compliments, Leeyum?"

There's a clang in the kitchen, probably from Liam nervously letting a spoon or a measuring instrument fall on the floor.

"Why would you say that, love?" Liam said almost hysterically.

Zayn laughed at his tone. "Because you get all flustered this early in the morning!"

Liam sneaked his head out the door just to glare at him and mouth "Mean" at Zayn, to which Zayn stuck his tongue out.

Zayn let the silence comfortably settle in the room. He liked these quiet moments they get to themselves, they were so scarce as of late since Zayn released his new album. Liam had also been under the public eye, since they made their relationship known to the world. It sometimes made Liam angry, going on social media and seeing people talking shit, but he could defend himself (though sometimes Zayn got involved because he loved him, and that's what he did).

"I received a call yesterday, from management," Zayn tried casually when Liam entered the dining room with his cup of tea while blowing on it so it cooled down.

"What did they want?" he said sitting down in front of him.

"Oh nothing, they just want us to perform that song that we sang together, no biggie."

When he didn't respond, he looked up at Liam. He was staring at Zayn, mouth agape and eyes huge. Zayn smirked, appeased that he got the reaction he wanted.

"Zayn, that's huge! Where?"

Zayn drummed his fingers against the table. "Just, the Grammys, it's okay."

Liam started laughing, hands over his mouth. "You're not shitting me, Zayn?"

He pretended to think about it, rubbing his right eyebrow. "No, I'm pretty sure that's what they said, yeah."

Liam jumped from his feet, and ran over to Zayn's seat, lifting him up in one swift movement, his euphoria rubbing off on Zayn as he laughed along with him.

Among kisses and "I love you"s and more hugging, Zayn figured this was the best moment in his life at the moment.

And to think Zayn hated record producers.

 


End file.
